


A Little Less Intricate Rituals

by cold_shadows



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, Poetry, That's really all, That's right guys, and then posts it on ao3, i'm one of those people who writes fan poetry, it's from steve's pov, it's not explicit, just referenced, this is just steve pining for billy, this was just a bunch of feels i had one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:24:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_shadows/pseuds/cold_shadows
Summary: This is just a poem I wrote about Steve pining for Billy
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	A Little Less Intricate Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> This was literally just my brain being a gremlin at 10 pm and I had to give it something to do ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
I thought it was decent, so  
come find me on tumblr @withoutmonsters

You're angry  
I don't really know what to do  
but I know what I want to do  
I see your frown  
and hopefully I can divert it to something a little softer  
a little more loving  
a little more foreign glances across the room  
a little more gazes focused on pink parted lips,  
a little less intricate rituals and a little more laughter at 3 am,  
watching you in the kitchen,  
a soft captivated glance and a smile pulling at lips

hopefully you will be the lover I've always dreamed of  
because you act so cruel but the truth is, baby,  
that you're like a kitten - angry and defensive  
until domesticity sneaks in and them you go pliant in my hands  
and it feels like you're all that I can see,  
from here to the horizon,  
your ocean eyes stretch like an oncoming storm, and sweetheart,  
I've never so wanted to get shipwrecked than right now, 

standing here in the harsh fluorescent light,  
hearing you laugh like tomorrow is the end of the world  
and if you don't laugh now, then you never will

and I can't help but think how apt that is,  
how we could be discovered and all this would be swept away  
like the shot from a gun held in your father's fist,  
because no matter how hateful his eyes are,  
it's always his hands doing the harm  
and I've wanted to  
hit  
hit  
hit  
him since I first saw him drive up,  
military ring glinting on his finger,  
like he was proud to be forged in the iron crucible of violent war-torn flashbacks  
and I can't help but wonder who is the soldier here, you or him?

Because when you stumble in my door at three in the morning,  
you look like you've been in battle  
and he's the one doing this to you  
but I can't help you if you don't want me to,  
and for every time I've hugged you with tears in my eyes ,  
gentle as Zephyr,  
you've pushed me away  
because you say you love him  
but I would argue that it's closer to fear,

but either way it doesn't matter because nothing's changed,  
and I'll continue to rot here,  
eyes on yours,  
laugh echoing through the kitchen  
as you smile like the Cheshire Cat,  
so smug to have pulled an ounce of mirth out of me  
and we'll hang here, 

suspended in this moment,  
heartbeats resting like instruments waiting for the conductor to cue them,  
ears filled with wax and mouths frozen around our words forever  
because if I can't say them now,  
then I can never say them at all  
but I can convince myself,  
for just one moment,  
that you want to hear them.


End file.
